The Story of a True Hero
by XyKPfan
Summary: Wes was Orre's first genuine hero. And like all heroes, he had a story. From a poor childhood, to a Snagem Admin, to Orre's famed hero, Wes' story unfolds as he struggles to find himself. With his loyal Eevee, Wes shows what it truly means to be a hero.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Greetings Everyone! Before I start, to all my Colosseumshippingfans, I am fully aware that I am no way near completing _A Hero's Job is Never Done._ I've been so busy and is currently experiencing a Writer's Block, but I will get back to it in due time. The same is for my _Fateful Journey, Manifesting Love _saga for my Advanceshipping fans. This story has been nagging at me for several months now and I can't brush it off any longer.

So without further ado, I present _The Story of a True Hero._

* * *

_1987_

The fluorescent full moon shone brightly against the ebony sky. The luminosity of the full moon obscured many other objects that were otherwise visible in the sky except for the stars which were flickering so beautifully. On such a clear, beautiful night, most residents would find this an awe-inspiring sight. The full moon along with the dancing stars was simply spectacular. It gave a peace, tranquil feel that was highlighted by the cool soft breeze.

There was one individual, however, that was not admiring at the night sky. He didn't care that the stars were dancing, or about the moon's soft mellow radiance. His only concern was getting his broken carry-on baggage unto his rusted old pickup truck.

He grunted in frustration as he heard his woman sobbing heavily behind him.

"You can't leave. You jest can't."

The man ignored her as he tiredly continued loading his luggage unto his truck.

"I didn't spend eight years workin' at the mill fo' you to walk out and abandon me. You'se said we was in dis together and…"

"Dammit, Millicent, will you stop that whining?! I about had enough of you and that annoying big mouth of yours."

Shakily, she held her stomach. "You can't up and leave us. What we gone do without you?"

"Look, I can't stay here, Millicent. I'm tired of scratching to survive in this deadbeat town. There's a life out there for me and I'm gonna have me a hunk of it. With or without you."

Millicent shook her head. Tears stained her face as she looked at the man she thought she loved. "You can't leave us here. Me and your baby have no way of supporting ourselves. We can barely keep up with the mortgage as is. I need you, honey. Wes need you."

"I told you I don't have any money to be feeding that bloodsucker!" he said angrily. "If I knew you were pregnant this whole way before I would've called the midwife to cut that bastard out of your stomach, and done it myself if I couldn't afford one."

Stunned by his words, she held her heart. "Darling, dis is your baby U'm talking about." She was trying to look in his eyes; trying to see if the man that courted her was anywhere to be found.

He slammed the trunk down and started for the front of his vehicle. She followed him.

"Wes is our responsibility. We brought him into this world and we can't leave him to fend for hisself. I didn't want no children before, I admit. But now I do 'cause I love you and we made dis baby. Don't you want your baby boy?"

He looked her dead in the eye. "Hell no!"

Gawking at him, she drew in her breathe.

"Tell me something, Millicent," he said coolly, "How do you know the boy's even mine?"

"Darling, I didn't lay up wit anybody but you."

"I don't know that for sure."

A wounded pitiful cry erupted from her throat. "Wes is the spitting image a you. He got your everything, from your hair to your feet. Only thing he got from me is my eyes."

"That don't mean shit. Many folks here look the same."

Millicent's cry deepened.

"Go ahead and cry. I don't care. Cry me river if you want."

Millicent started gasping for air as her cries chocked her.

The man gave a loud, exasperated sigh before placing his hands firmly on her shoulders.

"Listen, Millicent. I got hopes and I got dreams. I got a vision. I can make it big out there in the city. Job opportunities are everywhere there! I can't stay here! I can't live my life not being able to make ends meet. I want to live, not survive. This place I'm going is it, Millicent. We can be so good. So wealthy. So much better off away from here. Come with me."

"What about Wes?"

His eyes hardened. "Good riddance."

"U'm not leavin' my son."

He let her shoulders go. "Then good riddance to you too."

Millicent looked hard at the man before her. She saw in his eyes that he wasn't fooling. Nothing about him said that he was fooling. There was no bend in his back. He held himself tall and erect, high above her, his jaw tight, his lips frozen in a sneer.

"Honey, I was pure; a virgin when you married me. You know that. Wes is yours."

"I'm not with you all day. Far as I know you could lay up with someone else besides me."

Tears continued to flow from her eyes. "God is gone punish you for denying your own."

He slapped her—hard—slapping her head back, stunning her into silence. He then grabbed her around her neck.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that, you hear me? Talk against me one more time woman, and I'll put you six feet under." he said, pushing himself off of her body.

She grunted painfully. She watched him head to his truck. Hurtful tears washed over her face.

"You can't leave us." She called throatily.

"Then come. I already gave you my options." He stood with the door opened on the driver's side.

"U'm not leavin' my son no matter what."

"Then good riddance to you both. You're just a dumb country girl anyhow." he said, slamming the door and putting the key in the ignition. After a few minutes, the rusty old car came alive. It roared as it headed down the dirt path.

Millicent watched him until he went out of sight. She held her heart.

There was a small murmuring sound to her right. Looking over her shoulder, she saw her little baby boy sitting on the ground, his pacifier on the ground in the dirt.

She sighed.

"Oh, Lord. What am I gone do with you?"

* * *

**A/N:** Short, I know. But this was just an introduction. I must bring attention again that this story is not for kiddies. It is rated **M** for a reason. There is child abuse and disturbing images later on down the road. I will inform you ahead of time when it will take place in case you don't want to see the gorchy details. It's _not _going to be anything at all like _Chainsaw Massacre_ or anything like that, but I will not hold back. I am only saying this now in case you want to turn back from reading, but for right now, main thing going on is language. That's it. I don't want to scare anybody away; I'm just trying to be honest. This is going to be my view of Wes from childhood, to Team Snagem member, to Orre's hailed heroic hero.


	2. Chapter 2

_1993_

Out of the door—bright and early, Wes stood outside the only grocery store in town. With his hand cupped around his face, he peered through the glass at the foods and goods in the window. How he longed to be able to buy foods like chicken and collard greens and apples like other folks did. He wanted to be able to buy more than cornbread made without eggs and fatback and beans for his mother to cook. He wanted to be able to eat what normal folks ate. The folks that were able to eat a meal and be satisfied afterwards. The folks that didn't go hungry five minutes after dinner. The folks that didn't have to worry about surviving; about living. That's the way Wes wanted to live. But he knew something like that was far too farfetched. At least for the moment.

His mother had come down with a bad cold earlier that fall that simply would not ease up. Her hacking cough brought up blood, weakening her. Her chest pains brought tears to her eyes and fever kept her away from her job and her chores. She couldn't go out to buy groceries any more or to the cleaners to pick up their laundry, which left Wes to handle most of her chores. Wes was a little thing, small for six, but that didn't stop him from working harder than any boy twice his age. He didn't complain or whine when his mother asked him to do something. He just went about doing it without saying a word. He didn't really know their circumstance and situation but knew enough that there were just some things he had to do.

Finally walking in the store, Wes started down one of the aisles. He picked up a fourth pound of fatback and a can of green beans. Then he made his way over to the cash register counter to pay for his items.

"How do, Mistah Douglass?" He said cheerily. He placed his goods on the counter.

"How do, Wes? How you keepin' up these days?" Mr. Douglass asked, taking the five dollars and fifty cents Wes paid him before giving him back his change.

"U'm good." He said, eyeing the jar of peppermints sitting on the counter.

"Your mama doin' good? She was real ill last time I saw 'er."

"She's fine. The doctor come and visit her every week." He said, still eyeing the jar of treats.

Placing the food in a brown paper bag, Mr. Douglass didn't have it in his heart to tell Wes that the frequent visits from his mother's doctor weren't necessarily a good thing.

"Here you go, boy." He said, handing Wes the brown paper bag.

"I thank yah." Wes said, taking his groceries.

Mr. Douglass saw him staring at the jar peppermints and a smile broke out on his face. Placing his left hand on the jar, he unscrewed the lid and took out ten peppermints. He closed it back and opened his outstretched hand. Wes' eyes were fixed on the many mints in his left hand.

"G'wan and take what you want."

Wes' eyes widened. "No, sa. I can't. My Mama say I have to pay for everything I get ought its stealin'."

Mr. Douglass gave a small chuckle. "It's not stealin' if'n I offerin' it to yah. G'wan'n take some mints. You deserve 'em."

Wes slowly picked out one mint with his thumb and middle finger. Looking at him, he cupped the mint in both of his hands, holding the bag of groceries to his chest.

"That all you want?"

"You sho' I can take more?"

"Absolutely. Take all you want."

Swallowing, Wes started to pick up another mint, but stopped and looked into Mr. Douglass' eyes.

"G'wan. Take what you want."

With his right hand, he dragged all the mints into his left hand, dropping some of them on the floor.

Mr. Douglass threw back his head and laughed.

"Oh no. U'm sorry. Really I am. I…I didn't mean to drop 'em. Honest." Wes cried, placing the mints he held in his hands on the glass counter.

Walking around the register, Mr. Douglass knelt to the ground, picking up the striped mints. "That's all right, lad. No harm done." He scooped up the rest of the mints and poured them into Wes' paper bag. Then, he took up the ones Wes put on the counter and poured them in the brown bag as well.

"There you go, youngin'. Now carry on and tell yer mama I gave a holler."

"Will do. And I thank yah for the mints." He said as he exited the small general store.

Wes held on tighter to his bag when he started down the sloping dirt road into the valley. Almost in a trot, he pounded down the dirt road. Halfway down, he saw Doctor Goodman's shiny black Buick parked near the house. He met him halfway up the porch steps.

"Good day, Mistah Goodman."

He tipped his hat. "Well, how do to you, Wes?"

"U'm good. Is Mama okay?"

Dr. Goodman tried his best not to frown. "She's a restin' right now. Best leave her be for a spen so she can rest up."

"Yes, sir."

Closing the door behind him, Wes put the bag of groceries on the small wooden table in the kitchen. Climbing up on the wooden crates they used as chairs, Wes took out the can of green beans and the fatback, leaving the peppermints Mr. Douglass gave him in the brown paper bag. Hopping off the crate, Wes took the quarter pound of meat and placed it in the icebox.

The rusty old icebox was in the house when his mother moved in. They never had anything to sit inside it other than milk, which didn't sit for long. His mother liked drinking ice water, so she let the ice man bring a block of ice four times a week for ten cents. Wes enjoyed drinking ice water too but often settled for room temperature so his mother could lap up what little water they did have. He didn't mind drinking the lukewarm liquid as long as his mother was satisfied with what she was drinking. Only on rare occasions did Wes drink ice water and that was when it was enough for the both of them to drink together.

Closing the icebox, Wes walked back over to the table. Standing on his tippy-toes, Wes reached for the can of green beans. Grabbing it, he ran over to the stool by the counter. He climbed it and stood again on his toes as he tried reaching for the cabinet. It was still out of reach.

Climbing down, Wes ran for the broom. He grabbed it and rushed back over to the wooden stool. He climbed back up it and again stood on his tippy-toes. He raised the broom high above his head, trying to pry open the door. It took him a while but he finally hooked the end of the broomstick into the cabinet handles and opened the door. He then took the can of green beans and steadily balanced it on the broom corn, slowly and carefully rising it until it was at the same level as the top shelf. He carefully angled the broom. The can slid off smoothly unto the shelf. Flipping the broom, Wes hooked the end into the handle once more and closed the cabinet. Then he climbed down the stool and returned the broom to its place behind the icebox. That settled, he ran back over to the small wooden table and stretched for his bag of mints. He took one out and popped it in his mouth. Then he slid the bag back on the table.

Walking out of the kitchen, Wes started up the stairs to his mother's bedroom.

"Mama?" He called out as he continued to mount the stairs.

"In here, baby."

Turning to his left, Wes walked down the hallway until he got to the last room in the hall. He meekly peered into the room.

"Mama?"

Millicent gave a painful phlegm-filled cough. She put her hand to her chest and throat, massaging it to try to ease the pain.

"Come here, child."

Wes submissively walked over to his mother's bedside. He sat on the bed and Millicent pulled him closer to her.

"Did you get the things at the store like I asked yah?"

"Yessum. I got the meat and beans like you asked."

"Good boy." She said weakly. She sniffled before coughing once more.

Wes drew in his lips before speaking again.

"Mistah Douglass gamme some peppermints. I told him I ain't want none 'cause you told me never to steal but he gave me anyway."

That made her chuckle. "Sweetie, it ain't stealin' if someone offerin' it to yah."

"Oh." He said quietly.

"Darling, it's only stealin' if you take somethin' without permission. If Mr. Douglass offerin' you mints, you not stealin'. He askin' if you want some, okay?"

"Okay."

She smiled. "How much he give yah?"

"Ten. But I was suckin' on one when I came up here and now I got nine."

"That's a lot of mints. Did you thank Mr. Douglass fo' what he did?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Good boy." She said again, tousling his hair.

"I got your change." He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out three quarters and a dime. He held it out to his mother.

She wrapped her hands around his and clasped them together. "You hold on to them fo' awhile."

Wes put the coins back in his pocket. He turned back to his mother. "What the doctor say?"

Millicent opened her mouth like she was about to say something and then closed it. She couldn't tell her son what Doctor Goodman had told her. She couldn't tell him that her lungs were full of tuberculosis.

Swallowing, she tried to answer her child's question the best way she could.

"The doctor say U'm real sick and I need to rest up some fo' I go back to work."

"Oh." Wes said quietly.

Millicent again hacked up a cough. Beads of sweat began to form at her forehead. Her breathing became shallow.

"You okay Mama?"

"Yes… U'm fine." She forced herself to sit up in bed despite the pain she was in. "What all you do today?"

"I picked up the laundry dis mornin'. I put 'em downstairs by the door outback."

"Good……You pay Mr. Paisley his dues?"

"Yessum. He gamme a nickel back."

"That's…my…boy." She said suddenly sounding out of breathe.

"Mama?"

Fine veins popped up around Millicent's eyes and neck and her face looked strained and ashen. Her face was a mask of anguish.

"Mama?" Wes said, a little more concerned.

"Wes…" She said, breathing laboredly. "Wesel…go…get…my…insulin……hurry…"

Quickly hopping off the bed, Wes hurried downstairs to the icebox. He took out a needle that was in a plastic baggy and returned to his mother with the needle and an alcohol pad in his hands.

"Hold…my…arm…" she said weakly.

Wes held her outstretched arm and swabbed it with the alcohol pad. Then he uncapped the needle on the syringe and pulled the plunger out until only the end remained in the barrel. He stuck the needle into the bottle of insulin and turned the bottle upside down with the needle still in it. He then pushed the plunger down and pulled it back again until the correct amount of insulin was in the barrel. Holding his mother's hand steady once more, he handed her the needle to inject herself with.

Millicent stuck the needle in her arm and pressed the plunger down slowly until all the insulin was gone from the barrel of the syringe. After a few moments, she removed the needle and carefully handed it to Wes to replace the cap on the needle. Wes rested the needle on the bedside table before wiping the area with another alcohol pad. He took out a bandage he had in his pants pocket and placed it on his mother's arm. He then gathered up the remains and threw it in the waste basket by the bathroom before going back to his mother's side.

"Thank you, baby. I don't know what I'd do without you." She said, holding his small hands in hers.

"You all right now, Mama?"

She smiled. "In a few moments I will be. Don't worry. Mama gone be all right." She said, lightly stroking his cheek.

"You gone get better soon, Mama?"

Millicent was hesitant to answer her child.

"Well, the doctor say I got to rest. So, sooner I get to restin', sooner I gone get better, I declare."

Wes hopped off the bed. "I gone let you rest." He started for the door.

"Now hold on there, sweetie," She called out, "Mama wan' talk to you for a second."

Wes slowly made his way back to his mother. He sat down on the bed and she pulled him closer to her.

"Now listen, sweetie. I ain't as strong as I uster be. This sickness is wearin' me down."

"I'll take care of you, Mama. I'll take care of you real good."

Millicent shook her head. "Now, listen to me, sweetie. You'se too young to be takin' care of your Mama. I should be the one takin' care a you."

"But Mama…"

"Hush, child. Let me speak."

Wes shut his mouth.

"Now look. Over the last couple months you been so helpful. You been doin' all my chores and tendin' to me like U'm the baby and you the mama. We gone through some hard times together and you ain't complain one time. You'se my little angel, my little helper, my saving grace." Her heart filled to the brim and overflowed with love for her child. She lay her hands on top of Wes' knee and squeezed it.

"I'd do anything for you, Mama. U'ma take care of you like you take care of me."

Millicent began to lightly stroke Wes' hair.

"I know that, child, and I thank yah. But I can't let that be happenin' no more."

"Why not?"

Millicent's hand glided down to her son's cheek. Then she rested her hands in her lap.

"'Cause dis not the life you ought to be livin'. Things gone get a whole lot worse fo' they get better."

"I know that, Mama."

Tears began to well in Millicent's eyes. Wes gently wiped them away. Millicent took his hand in hers and gave it a light kiss.

"You'se the best child a mother could ever ask for, Wesel. And U'm mighty proud to call you my son. I want the very best fo' yah. That's why I can't let you be taking care of me no more. I want you go on an adventure."

"An adventure?"

Millicent nodded.

"See sweetie, when I brought you into dis world, I made a promise to myself and God that I was gone do right by you and give you the best possible life I can. Baby, I love you with all my heart and I want the very best fo' yah. I jest can't see myself giving that to yah. That's why I want you to start a journey."

"A journey, Mama?"

"Yes, baby. That's when young children like you leave home and go make friends with critters call pokémon. You travel all round the world, meetin' and greetin' new people and creatures every day. And if'n you go far, you might even end up on the television."

Wes pursed his lips. "But Mama, I thought folks was 'sposed to be least ten fo' they go explorin'? U'm not of age yet."

"Only if'n you go to get what they call a Trainer Card do you need to be ten. U'm sendin' you off on a journey of my own."

Wes was still confused. "But Mama, who gone take care a you if'n I don't?"

"The doctor come by here three times every day. Even thinkin' bout getting' me a nurse to tend to me and keep watch."

"But Mama…"

"Now look here, Wesel. I done told you what I have to say. You goin' on a journey 'cause U'm your Mama and you got to do what I say, you hear?"

Tears wetted Wes' cheeks. "Yessum."

"And 'nother thing: I don't want you talkin' like us folks no more. You go out there in that world and speak proper intel-like. Speak like you got some sense. Folks hear your accent and 'sume the worst. You a smart boy and I want you to talk like it, you hear?"

"Yes, Mama."

Millicent licked her lips. She brushed the tears away from her son's face.

"I want the very best fo' you, Wes. That's why you can't stay here. 'Nother thing too is I sick. You got to go. You stay I could make you sick. You got to go so you don't get sick. You don't want to get what I got."

Wes wiped away the mucus that was starting to flow from his nose onto his arm.

"Don't do that. I raise you better than that. Go get a tissue. Wash your hands while you in there."

Getting up off the bed, Wes did what he was told and went to the bathroom, returning a few minutes later.

"You wash up good?"

"Yessum. I mean…yes Ma'am." He said, hopping back up on the bed. "Mama, I don't wanna go by myself. I jest six. I don't know what to do out there."

"I'll tell you what to do. I gone tell you what to pack and what to put on. I sick so I can't do it no more. You put on real clothes, not the 'tato sacks I put together to make your pants and tops. You gone wear shoes too. Walking barefoot all the time ain't proper no more. I don't want folks judging my baby. They take advantage of you that way."

Wes had been walking barefoot since the time he took his first steps. Nothing ever irritated him or hurt his feet—not rocks, not splinters, not even the hot Orre clay. His mother said the bottom of his feet were as tough as leather from going barefooted all the time.

"I don't care what folks think, Mama. I know we can't afford no shoes. U'm fine walkin' without 'em."

Millicent shook her head. "It's not about whether you care or not. It's about what they think. They gone think you nothin' but a country boy from the South."

"But I am a country boy from the South, Mama."

"And I don't want them to think of you that way. That's why you gone stop talkin' like me and Mr. Douglass, and start talkin' like the folks we see on the television."

Wes drew in his lips. He didn't argue with his mother anymore.

Sighing softly, Millicent took her child in her arms.

"I don't want people treatin' you like they treat me. You better than that. You deserve better. Tomorrow, bright and early, you gone start your journey, you hear? I gone clean you up right nice. You gone be presentable when you leave, you hear?"

"Yes, Mama."

Millicent slowly began rocking.

"Yes, sa. You gone be the one to make it outta here. And baby, I promise yah, soon as I get better, U'm gone join you on your journey. Okay?"

"Okay, Mama."

Millicent continued to rock her child until he had fallen asleep. She kissed him gingerly on the forehead, before lifting him up, and carrying him to his room. She laid him gently in his bed and covered him up. Sighing, she watched her sleeping child. She could never tell him that she was dying. She had to let him go so he could have a better life. She just hoped and prayed that the world wasn't too hard on him.

* * *

Wes stood still, looking at the dirt road ahead of him. He couldn't imagine what mysteries laid before him. He didn't want to. All he was thinking about was how much he was going to miss his mother once he left.

A hand slowly rested on his shoulder. Millicent kneeled down to meet him on eye level.

"You ready, sweetie?"

"No, but I ain't got no choice but to be."

Millicent smiled. "I done told you about your speaking. I don't want you talkin' like me no more, you hear? Speak proper."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Her smile widened. She stood back up.

"Go get the pack we packed fo' you last night."

Wes hurriedly made his way back inside the house. Millicent had called her neighbor, Mrs. Murphy to pack the bag for her because she didn't want to transfer her sickly germs onto her child. She didn't want her son to get what she had and she tried her best not to transfer the contagious disease over to him. She hoped that the kiss she gave him last night and her coughing didn't make him fall ill.

Wes returned with a green pack that had a red pokéball insignia on it.

"Everything you need while you explorin' is in dis here pack. Food, water, a map, and even some food for your pokémon if'n you catch one. There's some other nifty things in there too case somethin' happen. And I even made some special sugar cookies just for you."

"Gee, thank you, Mama." Wes replied happily.

It warmed Millicent's heart to see a smile upon her child's face. She kneeled down beside him again.

"There some change in there too if'n you need to buy some more supplies. I ain't have enough money to buy you some shoes last night but if'n you make enough on the road, I want you to buy some, you hear?"

"Yes, Mama."

"And I ain't have no money to buy some mo' clothes neither. So I want you to wear this 'tato sack like it fine silk til' you get some real clothes, you hear me?"

"Yes, Mama."

Millicent smiled. She opened her arms for a hug and the two embraced long and hard. Love flowed from the both of them into that embrace.

"U'm gone miss you."

"U'm gone miss you too, Mama."

"Call me when you get the chance."

"I will."

Letting him go, Millicent smiled again at her son. She rose her hands to her head and unwrapped the periwinkle bandana that rested on it, letting her long brown hair flow down to her waist. She wrapped the scarf around Wes' neck and loosely let it hang.

"I want you to think of me every time you wear this. That way, U'm always with you no matter how far you travel."

Touching the scarf, Wes looked to his mother for a long moment before hugging her tightly once more.

"U'm gone miss you, Mama. I love you."

"I love you too, baby." She said, letting him go. "And remember what I told yah. Start speaking proper. Make somethin' outta yourself."

"Yes, Mama."

Millicent stood back up. "And remember, soon as I get better, U'm gone join you on your journey."

"You promise?"

Millicent nodded. "Soon as you find a nice spot down the road, I want you to check your map. You gone be headin' to the Outskirt Stand. It's a restin' stop fo' most trainers. You go there and call me when you get there."

"Yes, Mama."

Tears of joy rolled down Millicent's cheeks. "Now get. Hurry along and start your journey. G'wan'n do like I say."

Humbly, Wes started down the dirt road path that he had seen so many travelers do in the past. He stopped after a few feet to wave goodbye to his mother before continuing his way down the path.

Millicent waved goodbye for the last time before heading up her porch steps and sitting in her Mama's old rocking chair. She watched her son go until he was way out of her sight.

She sighed. She knew that that was the last time she was going to see her baby boy.


	3. Chapter 3

Wes dragged his tired feet against Orre's hot red sand. He looked at his wrinkled map time and time again but he just couldn't understand any of the markings on it. He thought he had understood how it worked at first, but just ended up confusing himself all over again.

With an exhausted sigh he dropped down to the earthy clay with a _plop!_ At this rate, it would take him weeks before he got to the Outskirt.

Hearing a rustling noise in the distance, Wes' brow crinkled as his body began to fill with concern. Slowly getting to his feet, he cautiously made his way to the rustling bushes a few feet away. Sticking his hands in its center, he parted the bush in two and meekly peered through.

What he saw was a small brown mammalian creature struggling to free itself from a barbed wire fence. It appeared to be in much discomfort, all the while getting more anxious from being trapped.

It ached Wes' heart to see this poor creature suffer like that. Stepping through the bush, Wes slowly made his way over to the quadruped creature.

"'Scuse me?"

The small creature jumped, the wire's sharp edges making their way deeper in its skin. The little thing gave a low growl as Wes made his way closer to it.

"You got yourself stuck in there pretty good didn't yah?" He asked kneeling to the ground. He examined the wire connected to the fence post.

"Vee vee!" The small creature cried, ignoring the pain in his body and standing his ground.

"Oh, you don't have to worry. U'm not gone hurt yah." Wes said, reaching into his pack and pulling out a paper clip. He bent the versatile steel wire and straightened it out completely. He then bit down on one of its ends and twisted the wire until it formed a small loop. Looking at the barbed wire once more, Wes hooked the tiny loop on one of the points on the sharp edge of the wire. He then twisted the paper clip once more and pulled, repeating this cycle multiple times before manipulating his end into another loop.

Hooking his finger in the loop he just made, he pulled the paper clip and the once wrapped staples on the wire fence fell to the dirt. Picking up each one and twisting them around his crooked paper clip, Wes knelt back down to the creature that was now eyeing him precariously. He began sawing the wire coiled around the furry creature.

"Vee?"

"I uster get myself caught in these all the time when I was little. My Mama always say I had skin tough as armor."

It took him all of seven seconds to cut through the wire fencing that was coiled around the furry creature. Once he sliced it, he untangled it from around the small creature.

"There you go. You're all free now." Standing to his feet, he picked up the broken wire and threw it to the side.

The small creature looked himself up and down before widely stretching his legs. When he was finished, he sat back down and offered a sincere "thank you" to the boy who just freed him from the hurtful trap him.

"You're welcome." He said, walking over to a near stream. Near the stream was a Sitrus tree.

As he had done many times before, Wes climbed up the tree with ease and knocked down two Sitrus berries before climbing back down. Looking around once more, he spotted a broken glass bottle nearly filled to the brim with rocks and sand. Digging the bottle out with his bare hands, Wes picked it up and ran back over to the stream. He then proceeded to clean the bottle.

The creature watched Wes curiously as he washed out the broken piece of glass until it was almost shining. He returned moments later with the berries and the broken glass bottle filled with cool water in his small hands. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a torn worn-out washcloth. He dipped the old piece of cloth in the cool water, making it slightly damp. He then proceeded to clean around the creature's wounds with the rag, much to his surprise.

"My name's Wes. What's yours?"

"Veevee?" He replied, slightly confused. "Eevee?"

Setting the rag down, Wes took the broken glass bottle and held it a few inches above the Eevee's wounds. He then began to flush out the cuts, removing any and all bacteria and debris that found their way down there. When he was done with that, he took out an antibiotic cream out of his pack and began applying them to the Eevee's injuries.

"There you go. I don't have no bandages, so that'll jest have to keep fo' now." Wes put the cream back in his bag. He picked up one of the Sitrus berries and held it out towards the Eevee.

"This'll help heal your wounds faster. It tastes real good too. It's real juicy and packed with lots of flavors."

"Vee?" He looked at the berry, blinking a couple time before taking a large bite out of it. The berries juices spilled out and flowed down the Eevee's mouth as he continued to chew. When he was done, he gave a happy reply, smiling at Wes and showing his thanks.

"You're most very welcome." He said placing the berry down and wiping his hands on the damp washcloth he put down. "I never seen a creature like you befo'. You must be what they call a pokémon, am I right?"

The Eevee tilted his head to the side before nodding swiftly and happily.

Wes smiled. "Amazin'. My Mama would sure love to meet you. She talk about your kind all the time."

"Eevee?"

He stood to his feet. "Well, you're free now. Try not to get caught in no more fences, okay?"

The Eevee watched as Wes got further and further away from him. Sitting there, he pondered on this boy who freed him from the metal trap and treated his wounds. He pondered on it for many minutes.

Making a decision, the Normal-type pokémon sprinted off in the direction Wes was heading.

* * *

Wes still couldn't decipher his old wrinkled map. It was all foreign to him. It may as well have been non-linear writing if he couldn't understand what it was saying.

"Is this what grown-ups use get to their destinations?" Giving up, he dropped the map to the ground. "How am I ever gone call Mama now?"

The sound of light footfalls could be heard from behind. Wes ignored it at first—the empty road was full of strange noises that mysteriously came from nowhere. But then the footfalls got louder, followed by a high-pitched cry.

If Wes had not recognized the voice, he probably would have hid away in the bushes, waiting to see what was trailing him from behind.

But he did recognize the voice. He recognized the cry. He heard that same cry not ten minutes ago.

About-facing, Wes turned to see who the owner of the voice was. He got his answer when the small bushy-tailed pokémon he knew as Eevee came spiraling down the dirt road and into his arms. He snuggled up close, nuzzling Wes.

Wes gave in and hugged the creature tight to his body. "Well, hey there lil' buddy. Whatcha doin' followin' me?"

"Eevee! Eevee Eevee!"

Wes pulled back and looked the small pokémon deep in his brown eyes.

"With me? But I don't even know if I can make it on my own. I can't even make heads or tails of the patterns this here map." He said, pointing to the ground where the map had fell.

"Eevee! Veevee Eevee!"

"But I may not be able to take care a you. U'm still learnin'."

The Eevee found his way to Wes' left shoulder. "Eevee."

Smiling, Wes petted the small pokémon on the head. "I guess that's it then, huh?"

"Eevee."

With a chuckle, Wes reached down for his map, only to find that it was no longer at his feet. He began looking around but it wasn't anywhere to be seen. And there wasn't much for him to look for because the only thing before him was the dry dirt road.

"Aww man. I loss my map." His shoulders slumped.

"Eevee. Eevee Eevee."

"I guess. I didn't understand that ole map anyhow. So how 'bout we play it by ear?"

"E-Vee!"

"Sounds like a plan to me." He said as he once again started down the dirt path. "Hey, you happen' to know this place called the Outskirt Stand?"

"Eevee."

"I thought as much."


End file.
